


The value of a beast

by pastelkisaki



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Soen no Kiseki/Akatsuki no Megami | Fire Emblem Path of Radiance/Radiant Dawn
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Light Angst, Pre-Path of Radiance, Slavery, Tellius Week 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:54:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26089729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pastelkisaki/pseuds/pastelkisaki
Summary: A view of Muarim’s life before he discovered what freedom is––––Written for day 2 of Tellius Week 2020: Beasts/Bloodlines
Kudos: 8





	The value of a beast

Ever since his early days as a young cub Muarim’s mind has been occupied with savagery, deep grieve and, above else, paralyzing fear of something much bigger, threatening and imperative than any being he has seen before. Well, as someone who had had vigilant eyes over him in any given moment he has never made contact with many creatures from the exterior, but he can’t imagine anything worse than the beorcs that have surrounded him for most of his life.

For many generations laguz have been captive by foul beorc in high status, and Muarim many times wondered if with a higher position came a lower humanity in them. Of course he always kept it to himself as a wavering thought he couldn’t begin to fully comprehend, having always being told to accept his position as the way fate and the goddess decided his life would be, he wasn’t able to bring himself to question it, even less make his doubt known by the rest. Maybe he was just hated by the divine beings and this was their punishment for him, a punishment for being born a beast.

Beast laguz were somewhat common in beorc territory, his siblings –for the lack of a better term, any other word seemed wrong– had many times told him so.  _ “We have merely any meaningful value” _ they would add, and Muraim would only assent, after all what else could he do when anyone who dared to oppose that law were submitted to gruesome punishment from their keepers? The fire magic they used against them could be lethal in prolonged exposition, and in those cases all they can do is pray for burns over their body to be the worst they would receive.

Usually they were in charge of heavy work or anything the master –as they must call the highest keeper in the villa– would ask of them. It could be anything, and Muarim vividly recalls a time in which he had to remain awake for countless hours moving enormous boulders from one point to another, so heavy that he wonders how his untransformed form had enough strength to carry the job out.

However, most times he would be completing chores on the inside of rooms with nothing but thick and cold walls surrounding him, with someone coming from time to time to give more load to him and making sure his hands were constantly onto one job or another. During that situation is when he got his first taste of the fierce pain an Elfire spell could cause.

_ “Are you a moron or what?” _ The man shouted at him while Muarim resisted the urge to roar through the aching burn, followed by a silver sword being kicked to his side, a rusty piece of metal that even to this day he could still feel the faint scent of wiped blood from it. Once he grabbed it the man looked directly at him with more intensity than before, Muarim felt the worn out edge, so cold in his touch it might as well be made of ice. At that moment was when he understood the unspoken order, he forced his weakened body to stand and went straight to the stored pile of forgotten tools at his back, the hold on the sword so tenuous it could fall easily with any movement.

It was his first time doing that kind of job, but having seen others doing it was sufficient enough to get the basic understanding of it. The wheatstone was old and cold, but as he awkwardly moved his hand and rubbed the metal with slight force both started gaining temperature. Muarim had never held a sword before, but he knew a thing or two about weapon maintenance, and that little knowledgement sufficed to get a correct hold of the situation. After a while and being sure there were no problems or mistakes, the man left the room with a loud grunt.

That scene got repeated a couple of times in the following days. A different guard would come to wherever Muarim was busy in some affair, and more often than not before any order a fire strike or a metal swing would come his way –it wasn’t a surprise for Muarim the attraction for crudity the beorc could have–. Before he noticed, it became common to spend his days in barely nothing else but refinery work, and carrying the tools closely by himself was a necessary habit he developed in order to prevent the heavy fire magic damage.

The day the child of the master was born no laguz was allowed to head nearby him or engage direct contact with him, a rule that strengthened as he slowly grew up. Muarim followed this by law and the occasions in which he laid his sight upon the kid were always up to a minimum, however the child carried himself with such energy and curiosity that spotting him around the mansion playing with whatever he could caught in his little hands was not unusual.

Despite the distance, Muarim couldn’t deny to himself the inquiry the boy raised on him. He has always been familiar with the great differences in aging between beorc and laguz, and he knew well that by the time the master of the house died and the next in line replaced him, Muarim will still be in his prime years. Despite this knowledge it was the first time he witnessed it so strongly in the presence of a beorc in his youth. Much like laguz, beorc have a faster development in their firsts years of life, although one much quicker in which each stage could be clearly noticed and differentiated from the other, and by the time the kid could talk and walk almost freely Muarim concluded that one of his kind would likely already learned how to gauge their energy and strength to be able to maintain a transformed form for more than a few moments.

“Hey!” At 5 years old was when the kid directed a word to Muarim for the first time. Muarim knew he had approached others of his kind prior to him, other laguz would sometimes refer to the “little master who apparently enjoys to engage with them while they are busy”, and had feared that sooner or later the boy would come to him without bewaring the dangers or warnings that action implied.

Muarim cautiously decided to not answer his word, whatever a child beorc could do in response to being ignored couldn't be near what an adult could do if he dared to raise his voice and reply. Nevertheless he seemed to not take the hint and entered the room in which Muarim worked, gazing impressively at all the tools scattered on the floor. The boy sat in front of him hugging his knees while observing the anxious laguz.

“You know, I don’t think I have seen you before.” The child said after a short while in silence. “What’s your name?” The lack of malice in his voice came as a surprise to Muarim, but answering was still out of the question for him. After not hearing any response the kid continued. “I’m Tormod, dunno if you already knew.” Muarim didn’t, in fact.

Tormod didn’t move his gaze from him, and Muarim’s discomfort only grew, after all if anyone passed by it would seem as if he was keeping the kid from going out of there.

Still ignored, Tormod pouted and raised his voice again. “I’ll just call you ‘you’ if I don’t know your name...but hey, you!” He moved from his position and sat crossing his legs careful to not touch any tool. “I have a very, very important question and I can’t ask anyone else! …..Please?” Muarim still didn’t say anything, but now his sight was slightly directed at the kid. “You see…”

And Tormod began to ask a handful of different questions, some related, others not at all. It came as a surprise to Muarim when after a moment of doubt and in a more quiet and doubtful tone he asked about the difference between “sub-human” and “laguz”, which seemed to be his very, very important question, as he said.  _ “See, my family always goes around calling all of you ‘sub-human’ again and again, but when I once called someone like you by that they did this very disgusted face and began to totally ignore me!” _

In that way it began his argument. Muarim was well aware of the derogatory terms beorc used for them, sub-human being a usual word but not the only one in their vocabulary, other times they were just called beasts and wild animals without humanity in them. It was the normal thing for them to do, what wasn’t normal is Tormod not feeling convinced by it and going out of his way to ask a laguz no less.

“My dad tells me to read a lot so one day I can be as strong as he is, so that’s what I do. But I found an old book in my bookshelf that talked about the, uhm, laguz? People that can transform into an animal form and they get stronger and bigger and and....I think that sounds super cool!” Enthusiastic as a child can be, and so unaware of the world around him. Muarim couldn’t really blame him, there’s no way a child loved by god and everyone surrounding him could understand the sin upon punished creatures.

Their conversation was more of a monologue than anything else, Muarim could at most answer in single syllables or quiet assents, hoping that would be enough to satisfy Tormod before he decided to go somewhere else.

In the end by the time the kid got up and said his goodbyes Muarim still didn’t tell him his name, and maybe even Tormod forgot about the matter since he didn’t ask further for it.

Only when Tormod stood near the door frame and waved his hand to Muarim, he noticed the thin book the boy was carrying with him in his cloak: a basic Fire spell. It was nothing astonishing that he already started learning the magic arts, after all only in that way he could be as strong as his dad, casting powerful and deadly magic. All that occupied Muarim’s mind as he got back to work was how lucky he was for both not being caught making contact with the beorc child and for the innocence a kid could have before realizing the apparent rule of the world.


End file.
